


Formal Arrangements

by Cashmerin



Series: In Consideration of Courtesies Exchanged [1]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Engagement, F/M, Political Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cashmerin/pseuds/Cashmerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A contract, a letter, a velvet box. Waver isn't sure how life got this way, and he isn't sure he likes it--but he also knows it really could be worse. [Revised & Updated]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Formal Arrangements

Waver wasn’t sure how his life got this way.

It started, somehow, with a suggestion, as most things do. He knew very well that these lofty blueblood mage families engaged in arranged and political marriages at their whimsy as a means of alliance or strategic bloodline building. He remembered Reines mentioning once, about Kayneth’s engagement. Back before they both died in the war, of course. She still told that story in dramatically rueful tones any time she felt his self-worth was getting a little too high.

He’d always found the practice somewhat repulsive. It was sound in theory- everyone trying to increase their magical potential just that little bit more in their pursuit of Akasha. He understood that walking away from a good match could mean symbolically throwing away generations of work and perseverance. Still, there was no denying that some of these unions were far more about social and political maneuverability than magic circuits—to wit, his current headache. He had little personal interest in marriage as an institution. Or as anything, really. It was already enough hassle worrying about his own affairs.

Yet here he was, that one suggestion and a whirlwind of negotiations over a ten month period later, literally signing his life away on a formal proposition letter. He’d carefully procured every scrap of El-Melloi material he could manage; a letter written on El-Melloi letterhead was carefully tucked into an envelope haphazardly closed with the El-Melloi wax seal, and an El-Melloi monogrammed box served to house both the letter and a smaller velvet box.

Waver could feel his face burning with embarrassment and a twinge of self-loathing. Why, why, why. Why was he doing this. Not the packaging— he was rather comfortable with that part. It meant not having to fumble for the right combination of words to ask a question he wasn’t really comfortable framing the traditional way. Yes, he’d determined. He’d mail it over and the task would be done and he would spare both himself and her the experience of pretending they in any way cared about each other beyond their established acquaintance.

The whole sorry package was tied shut with a red ribbon and firmly affixed with one additional El-Melloi wax seal, to be delivered tomorrow to its intended recipient by El-Melloi courier. Reines had scornfully called him "a ninny" for the pains he was taking to make the arrangement as official and impersonal as possible. Waver had scowled at her in reply.

The smaller box, of course, contained a ring bearing an Old European-cut diamond personally selected by Reines, having a value of around fifteen- to- sixteen thousand euro. Waver spent very little time looking at it; despite handling the hinged velvet cube frequently over the past few days, all he could recall at the moment is that the stone inside was rather large, some kind of solitaire setting, and the band was either white gold or silver. It didn’t matter much to him. He had taken only a quick look inside before abruptly snapping the box closed. Reines had laughed.

The other item in the parcel, the letter, was formally addressed to “the head” of the other mage clan. He knew well enough that the head and his soon-to-be-intended were one and the same. As with the ring, it didn’t matter. A formal letter for a formal arrangement. If she wanted romance, she certainly would have option and forewarning to call off the whole matter with a few strokes of the pen “as presented and discussed in the additionally enclosed _Terms and Conditions of Engagement and Subsequent Marriage_.” The terms outlined the political and financial expectations between the two families once the deed was done. Reines had also _graciously_ approved him including a locked-in a timeframe by which the wedding would occur. Should the marriage not take place prior to this date, “barring any solicited and approved request for extension,” the negotiation would be considered null and void, the ring was to be returned, and the engagement broken. A not-insignificant part of Waver’s gut hoped his potential bride-to-be would take as long as she wanted….and longer.

It fell more under the branch of 'political' than 'arranged', he supposed. His participation was consensual, but that did not make it voluntary. Just because one has the option of agreeing-or refusing- doesn’t mean he would have sought it out on his own. When Reines approached him about it, she’d framed it as an opportunity to get out from under her thumb, always asking permission, always being tied to whatever whim she had. He’d always be indebted, that was understood, but the more particular slave-hood aspects would be greatly relieved.

Why him, he’d asked. A certain high-bred family was, for one reason or another, looking to tie its fortunes to the El-Melloi faction in Clock Tower. Who better than the “brother” of the current head to lock the deal in tightly? Or so she had said.

Waver knew there was some passive-aggression in this act, marrying off a third generation mage such as himself into a centuries old family. He presumed they knew it too, but considering the unexpectedly short window of deliberation they’d taken, it appeared they were willing to take the gamble based on his infernal skills as a professor and resulting student successes. For his part, Waver had weighed his options carefully at the origin of the discussion and decided there were worse matches and worse affiliations, and he would rather call in his debt on this one than some potential future unknown. And anyway, there was, eh, that one incident…

He shook it off. Tomorrow, the package with all its weighty contents would be delivered to a London mansion for review and signature. The contract would be made, a date would be set, and Waver’s life as he knew it was to be over before the end of the month. He set the box on the counter of Reines’ foyer for the courier to retrieve in the morning. A cigar found its way to his fingers and his lighter flicked to life.

* * * * * * * *

The very next afternoon, much to his chagrin, the Terms and Conditions along with signed Contract of Marriage found their way to his tiny apartment. It must have first been delivered to Reines, who then forwarded it onto him, as he had pointedly neglected to include any personal contact information in the letter itself.

He sighed as he reluctantly tore open the envelope for review. There it was, the entire thick packet of papers, all diligently and properly executed. Belatedly it occurred to him that official contracts probably shouldn’t be folded in thirds. Oh well. He’d done it first.

A smaller note, written on mismatched stationary, fluttered to the floor. He picked it up with curiosity. His eyes scanned the single sentence - artfully penned in carefully scripted handwriting with a large signature nearly calligraphic in execution - quickly before he set the entire packet to the nearest surface and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger with a pained sigh.

 

_Charming letter, Professor._

_ **\- ℒ** _


End file.
